


Firsts

by caelescherries



Category: South Park
Genre: Crenny Week (South Park), Gay, How Do I Tag, M/M, My First South Park Fic, Okay-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 12:17:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21208409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelescherries/pseuds/caelescherries
Summary: Basically just Kenny talking about funerals and Craig Tucker. It's not my best work but I'm not particularly mad at it. I hope you guys like it =))





	Firsts

This wasn't my first funeral, and honestly, I genuinely think that people overthink funerals. They pay way too much to have some weird, creepy old guy come and talk about how God comes and takes his little angels from the world early for a reason, and that’s absolute bullshit. For one thing, the only time that I’ve ever been taken for a reason was back in fourth grade for some absolute bullshit reason. The rest of the time, it’s just my absolute shit luck and horrible timing. Besides, most of the time I get sent to hell anyways. Seriously, me of all people, getting sent to Heaven? As if. Yeah, not a chance.

Despite this, and despite my family being poor as shit, about 43% of the times I’ve died (yes, I’ve calculated) they decide to have a funeral. It’s honestly quite pitiful, if you want my opinion. Not because of the mourning, but because of the lack thereof. Half the people that attend are only there because they feel obligated to be there- my parents included. They put on this whole facade about being heartbroken about the ‘untimely death of their youngest son’ but in reality, that’s one less mouth to feed. One less issue to have to deal with. That many more drugs they could buy without the extra cash. Not that they worried too much anyways.

49% of the people there are there because they actually kind of care. My friends, and a few classmates fall in to that category. Most of the time, they’re not actually sad. They feel bad and all that shit, but they aren’t sad. No, the sadness belongs to the 1% of people that attend my funerals. The actually sad and heart broken people, the people that would miss me for real if I were gone forever. These people are Craig Tucker, Tricia Tucker, and Karen McCormick.

Maybe it isn’t fair to put my own sister on the list. I mean, of course she’d miss me, she’s my best friend in the world. She’s my own blood. On the other hand, you’d think the same about my parents, but they’re part of the 50% so it could be seen why she could not care. Karen isn’t like the rest of my family though. Karen is different. Better. Maybe it’s because I was the one to have raised her. I don’t mean to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m a hell of a lot better at raising people than my parents were. I taught her proper manners, so she didn’t go around and just steal shit like Kevin does. I taught her how to spell so she didn’t walk in to kindergarten without knowing at least how to spell her own name. I taught her how to socialize, how to be nice. All the shit your parents are supposed to teach you when your a kid I taught her. And hell, she’s one of the most hard working, well behaved kids in South Park. so yeah, i guess that gives me some credit in her book, which is why she’s one of the 1%.

Tricia Tucker is a different story. I didn’t like change her diapers or some shit like I did with Karen. Tricia is Karen’s best friend. If Karen is upset about something, she’ll be upset too, no matter the situation. It’s not entirely that though. I end up being the one covered in makeup, my hair twirled and twisted in a myriad of different directions whenever she gets inspired by a new look on Youtube, since her older brother would probably rather die than let that shit get all over his face. He’d been the scapegoat until she was like eight, when she met Karen and me. To be fair, it’s been four years since then and she’s gotten a lot better. Not good, per se, but better. I have confidence that by the time she’s sixteen she’ll be the make up artist she’s been thriving to be. 

And finally, there’s Craig. Craig doesn’t do my makeup, and he’s not best friends with my little sister. He’s not someone I’ve been best friends with since I was a baby, but he was my first kiss. He was the first person I held hands with on the way to class, and on our way home. He was the first one to tell me he loved me in a way that was different than my little sister, or my parents. He was the first to take me on a movie date, then a star gazing date. The first to kiss my hand like a gentleman from story books. The first to care about what would make me happy. The first to think that maybe I’m not only a no good slut. Craig is one person who makes me sad when I die. I love Karen, and it hurts to see her cry, but I come right back so it really doesn’t matter anyways, The same rules should apply with Craig Tucker, but they simply don’t. There’s something that makes a huge difference between him being sad and Karen being sad. It makes me want to gut punch myself every time I have to see it. His beautiful blue eyes being red from crying is an absolutely dreadful sight to have to see. Even if i know he’ll completely forget about it in the morning(though he does tend to cuddle a bit more firmly on the days after i die) I hate to see him in such a state.

The minister dude has stopped talking, my mother gives a pathetic speech, Karen a genuine one, and Craig stays silent, trying his best not to break out crying in front of a bunch of people, and suddenly my body is being lowered six feet below. A train, I got hit by a train this time. It’s honestly ridiculous the amount of times ive died and how many of those were by shit like trains. In 2014, 16 people died by a train. 16. Now, i know that it’s not 2014, and it’s been like 5 years, but do you think statistics have changed very much? Only someone with as shitty luck as me gets hit by a train. I only pity those who can’t come back like me.

I only realized that it was the next day when i heard my alarm blaring and felt a huddle of warmth right next to me. I gently rubbed Karen’s back before sitting uo and tucking the blanket around her. This was a weekend routine. I wake up early as shit and disappear to Craig’s house and lay with him instead. It’s warm enough in my room and my parents know better than to even consider going in there, so I’m not worried about her. It’s more likely that i’ll slip on ice and crack my skull open on the sidewalk on my way to Craig’s than it is for something bad to happen to her.

I pulled on my parka on, whispered a ‘see you later’ that fell on temporarily deaf ears, and carefully climbed out of my window. Our house is only one story, so it wasn’t a crazy jump, just had to know exactly where the patch of ice (something that has killed me more times than I’d be willing to admit) was. I was safe this morning, and all the way to Craig’s, I managed to keep ahold of myself the whole time, so the real challenge was getting up to Craig’s room. realistically , all i had to do was knock real quiet, or text Craig or Tricia, but I didn’t want to wake them up. I always thought it was much sweeter to just let Craig wake up when I actually got in to bed. So, i put on my big boy pants and carefully scaled the rather conveniently placed tree that happened to sit right in front of his window. He always left his window open for me just a crack, so I just lifted it the rest of the way and slid in, the warm air immediately making the freezing journey worth it. I closed the window, gave the shrieking Stripe a treat to quiet her down, and slid in to be next to Craig. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, as routine and wrapped myself around him gently. This wasn’t the first time i’d done this, and i sure hoped that it wasn’t going to be the last.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao if you read all of that thank you! feel free to leave constructive criticism or just tell me about your day or yout pet. Have a nice night since I know you're reading this at like 3am on your phone.


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